Loving an Addict

I know I've been gone a while...I was losing the fight for a few months, now I'm in yet another treatment program, getting my mind right, refocusing.  I hate this shit.  I wish it was easier, but it's not.  And I can't expect it to ever be...
I am an addict and I am in love with another addict.  I have anxiety, depression, and PTSD, and I am in love with someone with depression, anxiety, and ADD.  We are both battling the demons of dual-diagnosis, and it fucking sucks.  It is a daily struggle, trying to be considerate of what the other person is going through, trying to be supportive while keeping each other accountable, trying not to trigger one another and still express how we feel and what we need.  People ask me why I don't date someone who doesn't have the same issues as me...well, I've got a lot of answers to that question.  For starters, straight-laced people have a tendency to judge people like me, and I won't tolerate that.  I have a past and I'm not ashamed of it, so there's no way I'll abide someone else's shame over it.  And also, how could someone who hasn't been where I've been and seen what I've seen ever understand me or relate to me?  I want to feel like an equal in my relationship, and if I dated someone squeaky clean with no demons, I wouldn't feel that way.  I'd feel inferior.  Just being honest.
I am happy with the person I have chosen to be by my side.  He is far from perfect, he can be difficult to deal with, but he gets me.  And I get him.  And that is a rare and beautiful thing.  So I will keep loving him and I will keep fighting, even when it's hard.  And I know he will too.  That's how real love works.
I'm fresh out of inspiration for now.  Stay tuned for the next installment, and until then, stay safe and stay sober.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I'm Not High Today

Some days you just want to say "fuck everything" and give up.  I feel like that a lot, but there's something in me that just won't allow me to do it.  I just can't quit, not even when it seems like I've fallen so hard there's no recovering from it.  Because I'm an indefatigable optimist.  I believe it's never too late, that you're never too far gone to come back to the light.  Even when it seems like nothing I do is ever good enough for anyone, I keep doing my thing. I don’t feel like I give myself enough credit for that innate determination, even though I’m sure it has saved my life more than once.   And no one else in the world is going to give me credit or validation, so it falls on me to recognize the value of my own character and celebrate the things I do well.   For someone with crippling self-esteem issues, this is not always easy.   I try to tell people that every day I don’t get high is a victory for me.   I don’t need to conquer ...
Read more

More Than Broken

I wrote this in early May, before the death of George Floyd, the protests, and the spotlight shining on our severely broken criminal justice system. I had to get approval from my attorney before posting it, which I have now obtained. This was one of the most difficult things I have ever written, probably the most difficult thing in the last 5 years at least. It is all true and it is all still ongoing. If you needed anymore stories of how messed up our system is, here is mine... I'd like to paint a picture for you, and I'd like to see how you feel about it when I am done: Imagine you are home with your spouse/significant other. You are in the lower level of the house and he is in the upper level. You are avoiding each other, because your partner has been a stranger to you over the past month, and in the past week he has done things you never imagined he would do. Some of those things are illegal, abusive, and coercive; and you are afraid of the person you love. You have not been...
Read more

Compartmentalizing Morality

I recently had a conversation with my mother about how I speak and conduct myself on social media, and how some of our family members do not approve of my language or tone. One of them said, "Juli has such a potty-mouth, and I know you didn't raise her that way."          - That's right, my mom did not raise me to use profanity...but many years have passed in between the time when my mother was responsible for my behavior and now, and those years were full of experiences no one in my family could ever even BEGIN to understand. Thankfully, I stopped caring about what my family thinks about me a LONG time ago. Also, thankfully, my mother and father raised me to be a strong, independent thinker, and I have yet to disappoint them in that regard. Which brings me to the topic of my post tonight... I have noticed over the past several years that there are many exceptions being made to the high moral standards I was once taught to uphold. I was raised Catholic for most ...
Read more